


No Fun To Be Alone

by DianaSolaris



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: (attempt), 1980s, Blood and Gore, Character Study, Discussion of Abortion, Gen, Homunculi, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Jealousy, Look This Is Kind Of Hard To Tag So Just Go With It, Murder, Other, Past EdWin, Post-Canon, References to Drugs, Serial Killers, envy greed lust and gluttony love each other dearly but THEY FUCKING SUCK AT EXPRESSING IT, envy is a horrible unsympathetic disaster for 3/5ths of this fic, i can't even say they're trying, they're just kind of. a wreck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-04
Updated: 2018-03-04
Packaged: 2019-03-26 17:19:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13862319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DianaSolaris/pseuds/DianaSolaris
Summary: It's been seventy years since the Promised Day and Envy still has no fucking idea what they're doing. But when Greed gets a girlfriend - like, an actual girlfriend, not just a casual fuck - things get weird. Again.Things I did not title this fic: Envy's Midlife Crisis, Featuring Hot Goth Girls. That would be rude.Title comes from 'No Fun' by the Sex Pistols, released 1988.





	No Fun To Be Alone

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the Envy Mini-Bang, for follow-the-chick's art! The full tumblr post will be up on their tumblr shortly ^_^

 

She wasn't dead yet, but the little gasps from between her black lips were getting weaker with every throb of blood from her wrecked throat. It was painful, watching her try to breathe - as painful as it was entertaining and hypnotic to watch the spark flicker in her eyes, trying desperately to cling to one more moment, one more heartbeat.

 

It was monstrous, Envy knew. That was why they did it. The kind thing would have been to finish it, to free the poor girl from her misery, but Envy had never once been kind. Instead, they knelt by her side, tucking their feet under them in what would have been a demure pose if they’d been showing less skin or covered in less blood. “Don’t  _ struggle  _ like that,” they whispered tenderly. “It’s pathetic.”

 

The girl’s eyes rolled in their sockets then landed on their face, pupils panicked pinpricks, and her hand lay by her side, squeezing and flexing in steady beats –  _ one-two, one-two, one-two – _

 

“Die with some honour,” Envy urged. “Do you have any?” They leant over her, green locks pouring like a heavy waterfall onto her chest, pooling and writhing on the black lace blouse and in the dip of her cleavage. “Die with  _ dignity.  _ It  _ is  _ your last chance.”

 

The hand flexed one last time – and then it darted up, grabbing onto Envy’s hair like a lifeline. “P-Please-“ they spluttered through bloodstained lips, spit and blood dribbling down their chin with smears of charcoal lipstick-

Envy shoved her away, getting to their feet and curling their lip in disappointment. By the time they looked down again, her rattling breath was gone, and one more mortal soul had fallen short of Elric’s proud gold standard, Elric’s enthused and impassioned speech about humanity.

 

It wasn't any better than they expected. Seventy years - seventy godforsaken years, they’d been looking for the secret in the eyes of the dead and dying. The secret they couldn't really name. The missing ingredient that was so vital to the Stone. The difference between Envy and the bustling, rowdy rabble of insects that had just continued to grow and spread and change and  _ die…  _ while Envy, their superior, their predator, been trapped here, without a purpose, without a leader, without a single order or word of direction except their base, prime directive.

 

What that prime directive _was,_ Envy wasn’t entirely sure. Perhaps just to be jealous. But the only thing that was keeping them sane was the belief that their Father – as terrible as he had been – couldn’t be so cruel as to give them _nothing_ else.

 

(Faith didn’t have to make sense.)

 

Envy shifted away the blood on their clothes, running their hands over their arms, their stomach, and letting the clean skin appear in the trail of their touch. This form let them blend into this particular subculture – hair spikier than normal, a little shorter, his headband scruffier than normal and a white tank-top with leather jeans. It wasn’t their favourite. They missed the jazz clubs and the moonshine, but they got away with more with the punks and the goths that inhabited this new decade. Times changed; people didn’t.

 

Then they walked away from the scene of the crime and back into the real world, the smell of smoke and marijuana covering the faint and coppery scent of blood.

 

* * *

 

Times were good, for some. Envy found Greed once the party was over, zipping up his trousers and fondling the cheek of a dishevelled, freckled sweetheart wiping off her lips. She looked good on her knees, but Envy still couldn't see the appeal of humans. Let alone having  _ anything’s  _ mouth near sensitive parts of the structure.

 

“That was good, hun. Here. Call it a tip.” Greed handed her a handful of bills, and Envy eyed the small bag of pills inside it with skepticism. The girl nodded and crawled a few trees over where she lay down on somebody else's coat, her skirt riding up her fishnet legs.

 

“I see you're still having fun,” Envy interrupted sourly. Greed glanced up at them then chuckled, completely unfazed. He tucked his dick away, wiping away a smear of red lipstick on his hand. 

 

“Well, that’s generally what parties are for, yeah. Fun. Although that seems to be an alien concept to you.” Greed glanced up at Envy and adjusted his sunglasses with a grin. “I figure you’re up to your usual dickery.”

 

“And fucking somebody’s mouth so you can give 'em drugs isn’t dickery?” Envy glanced over the girl. She was pretty, they supposed.  _ They  _ could be pretty. If they wanted to. They didn’t. 

 

“In the literal sense? I s’pose it is.” Greed raised an eyebrow. “For one, it’s all willing. Second, I don’t see what’s got  _ you  _ seeing red over it.” Then he wiggled said eyebrows. “Unless -”

 

“No,” Envy snapped. “Let’s go home.”

 

Greed’s smirk faded into a sigh of resignation. “Right. You’ve still decided you live with me.”

 

“It’s been decades. Get used to it.”

 

Greed just mumbled something indecipherable in return. “Leave Lust to her fun, I guess.” Then he slung his arm around Envy’s shoulders. “The nineteen-eighties ain’t bad, huh?”

 

“They aren't much of anything.  Give me a jazz hall any day.”

 

“Aw, come on. Nobody showed their tits at jazz halls.”

 

“I suppose they didn’t.”

 

* * *

 

Envy could now divide their life very firmly into Before and After. If pushed, they would admit that the dividing line had to do with Father's death - not that they held the Dwarf in the Flask in much high esteem any more - but the truth was more complex. Before and After. The time when they had been able to truly believe in their own unfolding destiny, and the time  _ after  _ their brush with death, the time  _ after  _ Edward Elric.

 

Envy still didn't know why one person deserved to have so much impact. And it wasn't even a single person. They still dreamt of fire, of the way their skin had felt sloughing off their bones over and over again. They still dreamt of glass under tiny feet they'd tried to forget they had, their jar trembling in hands too uncertain to hold on.

 

But Elric was the one they kept returning to.

 

Before and after.

 

Everything had changed.

 

To what? They still didn't know. Not hell. It was too cold in this corner of Amestris to be hell.

 

_ Hell is empty, and all the devils are here - _

 

_ All the devils are here, wandering around trying to figure what comes next. _

 

* * *

 

The house was - theoretically - one they could share. It wasn't small, but it wasn't big either. Envy had killed the owner, some senile old man who had alienated his only child, and now they made it comfortably their own, what of them there were left. Gluttony didn't come inside; he roamed the woods out back, and Envy had played a part in the rumours that had spread about the Wandering Mouth. It had that perfect horror touch, to help keep the punk rockers in line, although Envy had to admit, it was getting harder and harder to keep humans out of places they weren't supposed to be.

 

Envy hated the house. They slept inside, sometimes, when Greed let them sneak into his bed and pretend that they still had the relationship they'd had four hundred and seventy years ago.  But the electric lights hurt their eyes. What was  _ wrong  _ with oil lamps and candles? At least the early lightbulbs hadn't been so damn bright. And the radio and the heating -

 

Everything was changing.

 

Music was piping from inside, a few days after the party, and Envy stood outside the door, trying to swallow the jealousy long enough to go inside and demand Greed's attention. Lust still wasn't home. They were starting to wonder if she'd finally followed through on her threat to leave them, all of them, and go try to be normal somewhere else. Unlikely. She'd be home again in another day or two, exhausted of humans again for a while.

 

But just in case -

 

_ This is Radio Clash tearing up the seven veils _

_ This is Radio Clash please save us, not the whales _

 

Envy opened the door, and paused, almost biting through their tongue. Greed was dancing in the middle of the living room, and he wasn’t alone. Envy couldn’t help zooming in on the way Greed’s hand was lingering on the girl’s hip, on the exposed flesh between her skirt and her distressed tank top -

 

"Who the fuck are you?"

 

The girl turned her head, teased hair flipping out of her eyes and Envy felt their stomach curdle. They  _ recognized  _ her. But they couldn't figure out from where. That face…

 

“Oh! Hi!” she laughed, settling down and catching her breath. “Sorry, I didn’t know anybody else was due home. My name’s Marina,” she said with a cheery smile, putting out her hand.

 

Envy looked up at Greed, lip curling. “Marina?”

 

Greed turned down the radio, running his hand awkwardly through his spiked hair. “You, er, met the other night.”

 

Well, that was significantly more tact than Envy was used to from Greed. Now Envy could place her; the girl who had been quite happy on her knees for Greed in exchange for drugs. Not the kind of girl you expected your brother to bring home and dance with in the parlor.

 

“She’s leaving now,” Greed said quietly. Envy thought with a cruel humour that he’d probably noticed the distaste on their face. 

 

Marina glanced at Greed, slowly putting down her hand with a worried expression - but Envy grabbed her hand anyway, shaking it vigorously.

 

“Great to meet you properly! Your mouth was full last time.” They couldn’t help the devilish grin, especially once Marina’s face turned bright red.

 

“Oh. Um - I didn’t -”

 

“The name’s Envy. Greed’s my brother.”

 

Marina forced the smile back onto her face. “Brother! I uh. I didn’t know you lived with your family…?”

 

“It’s complicated,” Greed mumbled. “It’s late, why don’t I get you home?”   
  


“Nonsense. We have a perfectly good couch. It’s far too late to make anybody drive, and I’d  _ love  _ to get to know your new girlfriend.”

 

Marina blinked at Envy, taking back her hand. “...You know, I have. A thing. To do tomorrow.”

 

Blast. Humans were getting smarter. “Oh, well, at least let me -”

 

“Marina drove herself here and she’s  _ perfectly  _ capable of getting home,” Greed growled threateningly. Behind Marina’s back, Envy caught sight of the carbon crawling up his arm, which meant they’d reached the limits for how much they could poke and prod for now.

 

“Alright, alright,” they said, stepping aside and leaning against the wall, watching Marina pull her ratty combat boots on and adjust her leather miniskirt. “Safe travels home!” they called as she left, in a bit of a rush.

 

Once the door closed, Envy turned their attention back to Greed. “Really now?” they said dryly. “It’s bad enough that you breed with them without bringing them  _ ho- _ ”

 

The claw clasped around their throat and they found themselves staring into a very, very angry face. Which, all things considered, they should have expected.

 

“I am going to make myself very clear, Envy,” Greed hissed, grey diamond teeth barely moving. “I have my  _ proper  _ face back, let alone my life, because I am a stubborn prick who clawed my own way out of the Gate. Without your help. Without, I should add, so much as a  _ note  _ of support from you, because you were too busy crying at the pipsqueak’s feet because he wouldn’t let you kill yourself.”

 

Envy tried to swallow, but the claw wouldn’t let them. It wouldn’t let them look away from Greed’s eyes, either.

 

“You will let me  _ have this. _ ”

 

“She -” Envy croaked, trying to speak. Their feet weren’t touching the ground, they realized. How funny. “She’s gonna die anyway. She’s  _ mortal. _ ”

 

“I’ll enjoy it as long as it lasts. I see you anywhere near her and I’ll break your neck as many times as i have to.”

 

The pressure on their neck released, and Envy collapsed onto the ground, struck for a moment with the feeling of fire on their skin again. They looked up at Greed with a queasy smile. “Ah, you love me.”

 

“Unfortunately,” Greed drawled. 

 

* * *

 

The world was coming apart above them. Envy could feel it. But staring up at the cave ceiling was all they could manage.

 

_ Let me die. Let me die. Let me die. _

 

Weak. They’d been weak. Weak. In front of Fullmetal. In front of the worst possible person. And before they could come up with anything - any sort of ploy, any sort of reason it had been an act, a way to get Edward’s guard down - everything had changed again.

 

Edward had refused to let them. Edward had clung onto them too hard for them to move. And then Edward had left.

 

Envy wanted to throw up.

 

But they couldn’t.

 

Time passed. They weren’t sure how much. Somehow they found the strength to take back their preferred shape - they could, if they remembered how, if they could deal with the pain for long enough. They flipped over onto their stomach, mouth too dry to speak even if they’d known how.

 

More time passed. They managed to scrabble at the wall, almost making it upright -

 

Hands found their elbows, steadying them. “Careful, careful. You’re not at your best right now.”

 

Envy closed their eyes with a chuckle. Okay, so they  _ were  _ dead. “You’re not who I expected as the Angel of Death, but somehow fitting.”

 

“As surprising as it may be,” Lust replied, black-gloved fingers running up and down their arm, “I don’t appear to be dead, and neither do you.”

 

Envy was silent. Then - “I watched you turn to ash. I  _ watched you die. _ ”

 

“And I felt it. But nevertheless, here we are. And above us, the Promised Day is apparently  _ not  _ going as planned.”

 

“You’re telling me,” Envy grumbled. It was hard not to be disappointed, even if it had been Father’s dream, Father’s goal. Just - well - what else  _ was  _ there? What was the world going to look like after the Promised Day, if not the dream of peace and quiet they’d been sold? But it was hard to dwell on that when every time they tried, the pipsqueak’s voice kept rattling through their ears instead - or worse, the colonel’s rabid screaming. 

 

“I believe the time has come to collect those of our own we can and make alternate plans.”

 

“Who?” Envy scoffed. “Greed’s gone all soft and squishy. Pride decided Gluttony made a better snack than brother. Sloth’s dead.”

 

“I was supposed to be dead, too,” Lust replied glibly, wrapping her arm around Envy’s waist and pulling them upright. “I think with our father coming to pieces, things are...changing.”

 

Envy wasn’t sure how they felt about that. But they weren’t sure it mattered. Things were going to change no matter how they felt. Which was galling in and of itself.

 

And it was nice to have her back.

 

* * *

 

Envy was on the front porch when Lust came home, headphones pulled over their ears to tune out the sounds of nature around them. Twenty years ago, the music had been all about peace and love and joy - but the war had hardened people, made cynics of the children who’d grown up with it. Envy could tell them a thing or two about cynicism. Screaming over three chords about the same thing your parents had been crooning about didn’t make you different.

 

But, Envy had to admit, it was interesting. Wars never changed. Ishbal, Vietnam, the Arna Offensive, they were all the same, and humans never learned. It made Envy almost wish Father  _ had  _ won after all - they needed an immortal to keep them in line.

 

(That ‘almost’ kept sticking in their craw, though. Almost. They  _ almost  _ wished.)

 

“There you are,” they mumbled, pulling the headphones down and letting the punk music pour out, tinny and processed, into the forest air. “Have fun with your… uh, orgy, gang bang, whatever?”

 

“Believe it or not,” Lust laughed, pulling her hair out of its high ponytail and sitting down next to them, long skirt artfully torn at the bottom, “I wasn’t having sex.”

 

Envy raised their eyebrows. “Huh.”

 

“A name can be just a name. Especially now that Father is gone.”

 

Envy wasn’t sure they bought into that. Lust pulled out a pack of Marlboros, offering one to Envy. They shook their head - “Hate the taste,” - so she lit one for herself with a sigh. 

 

“So where  _ have  _ you been for - what, three days?”   
  


She laughed quietly. “There’s this girl over on the waterfront. She got pregnant. The guy said all the usual stuff, you know? We’ve been hearing it since we were made. I love you. I’ll be around forever. We’ll get married. It won’t hurt.” She took a puff on her cigarette, closing her thick-shadowed eyes. “She didn’t have the money for an abortion. And, uh, he accused her of sleeping around rather than pay up.”

 

“So she had the baby?”

 

“Had to. You remember what those butchers are like, even if she  _ did  _ have the money.”

 

Envy did, actually. They’d been on enough undercover missions with Lust. And they had no fondness for humans but it was their job to see what happened around them. Individual deaths and pain didn’t make blood seals - they had no reason to cause it, so Envy could ignore it.

 

Lust, though - Lust apparently hadn’t. 

 

She was silent for a little longer, then exhaled, smoke leaving her satin black lips and gusting up over the porch gables. “Two days in labour. And a third day stitching her back up and convincing her to call the hospital or child services or  _ somebody. _ Her parents. Anybody.”

 

“Did she?”

 

“Eventually, yes.”

 

Envy wasn’t sure why they were so scared to ask. They didn’t care. But - “The kid?”

 

“Fine. Thankfully.” 

 

“I swear to god if you leave us to go midwifing-”

 

“Would that be so bad?” 

 

“The personification of lust, delivering babies?” Envy snorted. “Don’t make me laugh.”

 

Lust smacked them on the back of the head hard enough that they felt their head ring. “Sometimes I feel like you don’t listen to me.”

 

“Only sometimes?”

 

“A name’s just a name.”

 

“It’s all we’ve  _ got, _ ” Envy snapped. “We don’t have souls. We don’t have a master. We don’t even have glorious deaths to look forward to.”

 

Lust rolled her eyes, scowling. “God, you are so wrapped up in your own cynicism. What do you want, somebody to come along and drop a future in your lap, wrapped up and ready to go?”

 

“It’d be nice, yes.”

 

“I’m glad you were never the brains of our operation.”

 

“ _ Hey! _ ”

 

“Try this one on for size. Who  _ would  _ you be if your name was - oh, I don’t know. William.”

 

“William,” Envy repeated, deadpan.

 

“It’s an example. Don’t overthink it.”

 

“Uh, a dipstick, probably.”

 

“Dipstick? You’re twenty years out of date again.”

 

“Bite me.”

 

“That’s more like it.” Lust chuckled, sounding entirely too self-satisfied. “You know what I think you’d be?”

 

“What?” Envy mumbled, not sure they’d like the answer.

 

She leaned into their shoulder. “A skinny, yet adorable brat with too much attitude, not nearly enough self-esteem and in desperate,  _ desperate  _ need of something to do with their time that doesn’t involve pissing off their big brother.” She kissed their cheek. “Also, a surprisingly innovative fashion sense. I’d lose the socks, though.”

 

She got to her feet, wandering inside. It was only after she’d gone that Envy came to their senses - “There is NOTHING wrong with my socks! And you got lipstick on my cheek!”

 

* * *

 

Somehow, they managed to not talk to Greed for a whole week. They noticed him sneaking out to go visit Marina, though, in the middle of the night, sometimes in the afternoon, nudging the bumper of his Mustang back into place each time. 

 

Envy liked to consider it a sign of character growth that they didn't say anything. The fact that they didn’t do much else other than pride themselves on  _ not  _ saying anything was beside the point. 

 

Instead, they shapeshifted in the mirror. Different outfits, different people - Kennedy, Nixon, Thatcher, Joe Strummer, Siouxsie Sioux, anonymous faces from the newspaper, and then once Envy had exhausted all the recent faces, ones that rose up from the past like corpses in the river. Wrath’s stupid wise old man face, crinkled and fierce. Envy kept taking the mustache on and off, cackling to themselves at how  _ silly  _ he looked without it. Like a raisin in the sun. 

 

Then they tried to bring themselves back.

 

And for a moment, they couldn't. They stared in the mirror, terror growing in their chest like a weed. 

 

Green hair. They had green hair. They remembered that much. Long green hair. And it sprouted, coming down, down, down their chest -

 

_ Shorter,  _ they urged. 

 

But they couldn’t remember.

 

They closed their eyes and summoned the first thing that came to mind. Anything. Just not Wrath’s face. 

 

Once they’d opened them again, Ling stared back at them, silky black hair fine and straight over his cheekbones. 

 

“Go away,” Envy hissed at the mirror.

 

There was a sharp intake of breath from the doorway, and Envy turned, half-guiltily to look at Greed. They hadn’t even heard him come back. They couldn’t even blame him for his reaction. Seventy years was a long time to go without seeing one’s own face, even if it had been a temporary one.

 

Greed took a step towards them, digging his hands into his pockets. “Playing around with shapes again?”

 

“...Yeah.”

 

“Didn’t think you paid enough attention to the kid to remember what he looked like.”

 

Envy shrugged. “He was somebody else you liked more than me.”   
  


“Oh, I like most people more than you. But I’m stuck with you nonetheless.”

 

They scowled up at him. The smug look perched on Greed’s face certainly didn’t  _ help -  _ or the fact that he’d found even more of those dumb sunglasses. “There’s nothin’ stopping you from leaving.”

 

“Aside from the fact that you’ve murdered three of my lovers?”

 

“Be fair. I didn’t know one of them was yours.”

 

“When in doubt, assume everything’s mine.” 

 

Envy bit back the snarky response of “who died and left you in charge” - since, well, that had an obvious answer. And the problem was, there was nothing stopping  _ Envy  _ from leaving either. Slowly, they took back what of their form they could. It was a little easier now that they weren’t trying so hard. “For somebody with such dreams of world domination, you’re not trying very hard.”

 

“Eh, I’ll figure I’ll run for the presidency once Russia’s done threatening to blow everybody to smithereens. I’m too lazy to deal with that shit.”

 

“That’s  _ your  _ problem. You’re a lazy piece of shit on top of being a prick. You should consider changing your name.”

 

“I’ve thought about it, honestly.”

 

Envy opened their mouth - then closed it. “You and Lust have been talking.”

 

“Yes, actually. I gather she said the same thing to you.”

 

“No,” Envy lied, trying not to glower too much.

 

Greed put a hand on Envy’s head, thumb rubbing over their headband in what would have been an affectionate gesture if Envy hadn’t felt so much like their brother would have snapped their neck in a second. “You know people hire hitmen and bodyguards and shit now? Apparently gangs are getting to be a bit of a problem.”

 

“At least that sounds a fuckton more interesting than  _ midwifery. _ I feel sick just saying that. Thank you for not being a wimp.”

 

“Actually that was for you. Me, I’m gonna be a foster parent.”

 

Envy punched Greed’s arm, glaring at him. “You do and I’ll skewer them.”

 

“See, I’m not laughing cause I think you’re serious.” Greed rubbed his arm, but the smile on his face was surprisingly genuine. Then with a sigh, he continued. “Marina’s coming here again.”

 

“You’re still seeing her?”

 

“I like her.”

 

“You like her tits.”

 

“They  _ are  _ very nice.” Greed hesitated. “Is there anything I can say to keep you away from her?”

 

Envy didn’t say anything. All things considered, they didn’t really want to talk about their issues with Elric, or the fact that Greed didn’t see anything wrong with bringing it up. It was  _ stupid.  _ They  _ all  _ hated Elric. It didn’t need to be a  _ thing.  _

 

“I’m asking nicely.”

 

“Yeah, I noticed. It’s weird. I don’t like it.”

 

“Should I just yell at you instead?”

 

“Fine,” Envy snapped. “I give my word that she will die of old age in some old folk’s asylum some… ambiguously long time from now. Or in a horrible accident in which I will be miles away. Or from cancer. Or - something that is  _ not related to me. _ ”

 

“How likely are you to keep that word?”

 

“I don’t know. Seventy percent.”

 

“I’ll take it.” Then Greed inclined his head with a quiet, “Thank you.”

 

* * *

 

It was a few times later. Maybe a week. Maybe a month.

 

Envy hunted another victim, first. They were still looking for it; Elric’s insistence in human teamwork.

 

“Cry out for help,” they dared the man with the pierced lips, the high mohawk, all the trappings that marked him as Part Of Something. He was supposed to be part of a clan. A group. “Go ahead.” 

 

The man just clutched at the new holes in his chest, chosen to scratch but not instantly destroy his aorta. Twenty minutes. He had twenty minutes to live, if Envy didn't end it.

 

Plenty of time.

 

Instead the quiet whimpering continued. Not loud enough to be a cry for help. Just a plea for sympathy.

 

Bit by bit, inch by inch, Envy took the man’s shape, paying attention to the pores, each dimple, each freckle, each scar. They took their time. Once they’d gotten each detail right, just the way they wanted it, the man had stopped breathing, eyes glassy and unfocused.

 

Still nothing useful. No glimpse of some great beyond. Not even the Gate, which was what Envy mostly expected.

 

They sighed, and left the body where it lay. Instead, Envy wandered out into the street. The other concert-goers were still milling by the bus-stop, some of them getting ready to head back to cars, others preparing for the bus-ride out back to podunk country. It was something it had taken Envy a while to adjust to - the concept of  _ buses.  _ Trains were classier, somehow. Buses smelt so much like people. But they had to find at least some of their victims in the city, or people got suspicious -

 

They froze up.

 

Marina tossed her hair over her shoulder, smirking at the rocker fiddling with her earrings. “Flirt with somebody else, my man. I’m taken.”

 

“Of course she is,” somebody snorted. “Who is it you’re related to again?”

 

“Oh shut up, Jared. Nobody cares about my granddad,” Marina grumbled. “You do not have to bring this up every time somebody flirts with me.”

 

“Right, cause your fantasy boyfriend-”

 

“He’s  _ real,  _ thank you.”

 

“And nobody’s met him.”

 

“Shut up, Jared,” Marina groaned. Envy slid into the group, heart in their throat.  _ I recognized her,  _ Envy remembered.  _ Not from the party.  _

 

“Aw, c’mon, Nina. You’re supposed to  _ brag  _ about this stuff, remember-”

 

Marina glared at Jared with an icy stare that suddenly made Envy respect her that much more - especially with how he froze and gave her an sheepish grin in response. “I’m not going to  _ brag  _ about being related to a war hero.”

 

“He was an alchemist! The  _ last  _ alchemist-”

 

“For a reason,” she sighed. “Stop making it sound like he was some sort of deity. He was a man. And he was a kid when it all happened, so no, I’m not going to brag about something I had nothing to do with.”

 

“Sorry, uh,” Envy interrupted, “Who are we talking about?”

 

“Nobody,” Marina said with an exhausted voice, but Jared - who Envy was starting to wish he’d killed instead, if for no other reason than for Marina’s sake - chirped up, “Oh, uh, Elric - Edward Elric. You know, the dude who did all that amazing shit back at the turn of the century?”

 

Envy felt the rush of heat at the back of their neck - for a second, they couldn’t see, and they had to fight the temptation to claw at their eyes, to check that they were still there. “The Fullmetal Alchemist?” they said weakly. “She’s the Fullmetal Alchemist’s granddaughter?”

 

“His only granddaughter at that,” Marina grumbled, “so trust me, I’ve heard  _ plenty  _ about it.”

 

“R-right. Um. Right.”

 

Marina glanced up at them, and then a wry smile lingered on her face. “...Oh  _ fine.  _ Ask. It’s not your fault  _ Jared- _ ” and she cast another deathly glare at him - “can’t keep his mouth shut.”

 

“I suck at history,” Envy stammered as an excuse, hoping none of the dead man’s friends were here. They were pretty sure they’d seen them go off in a separate direction, but - well - “He married his mechanic, right?”

 

“Yeah. They got divorced a couple years later, but it wasn’t too bad. My mom and uncle got shuttled around a bit though, cause he kept getting death threats and Grandma was busy.” Marina popped a stick of gum into her mouth. “Can you tell I get this question a lot?”

 

“What’s it like?”

 

“What’s what like?”

 

“Being related to him. I mean - did he talk to you about -”

 

“The Promised Day?” she finished. “No.” There was a sudden hint of sadness in her voice. “Other things, yeah. But not the Promised Day.”

 

Envy swallowed, swallowed again. They had other questions - they  _ knew  _ they did. They knew Ed was long dead by now. They knew that there wasn’t much some twenty-year-old could tell them that would make anything feel better, or give them closure on things that were long since engraved into their skin. 

 

And  _ certainly  _ not without being painfully obvious.

 

“Right,” they nodded, and tried to fade back into the crowd. If they could just duck around the corner and drop the shape, maybe they could take the next bus without Marina talking to them -

 

_ Elric’s granddaughter. _

 

It hit them like a lungful of cold water. 

 

Greed was dating Elric’s granddaughter.

 

Did Greed  _ know? _

 

Envy hoped not. Because otherwise that would have meant Greed was lying to them, and - it was one thing to acknowledge that their ‘family’ was made up of chance and mutual hatred, and another to stare it in the face. It was nicer to pretend that everybody hated Elric as much as they did, and ignore Greed’s months traveling with him, ignore that Greed probably had  _ liked  _ him.

 

_ Who would you be if your name wasn’t Envy? _

 

They didn’t  _ need  _ the self-reflection right this very second. But the thought wouldn’t go away. 

 

They shed the stolen form. They shoved the body into the dumpster. They found a spot - and waited.

 

* * *

 

They tried not to spring out at Marina from the shadows, but to be fair, it was kind of hard not to. “Hey.”

 

She jolted backwards, hand diving into her pocket. “Oh jesus, it’s you-”

 

Envy held up their hands, trying to look a little less threatening. Being relatively short helped in these cases, although it didn’t  _ quite  _ seem to be working. “I’m not gonna kill you.” They revised the statement in their head. “...Probably.”

 

“Oh. Thank you. Very comforting,” she snarked in response. “Giving me time to book the funeral proceedings first?”

 

Envy held back the smile. They were  _ not  _ going to find her amusing. They were giving her a chance, but that didn’t mean they had to like her. “My car’s over there. I can drive you home. Or to Greed’s. Whichever.”

 

“I feel like Greed’s might be safer. Also, closer.”

 

“Smart. I can see why he likes you.”

 

Marina reached up and fiddled with her earring, a drop of dark grey steel hanging from her earlobe. “...I know you can shapeshift,” she blurted out, chewing on her lip.

 

Envy dropped their hands. “How the  _ fuck- _ ”

 

“You were asking me about my grandfather. And the guy who - well, I assume he’s dead - he’s the ass who was badgering me about it a few weeks ago.” She chuckled a little breathlessly, pupils still very small and watching Envy’s hands with a nervousness she wasn’t trying to hide. “Well, he told me about the homunculi. And I…” Her eyes dropped.

 

Envy blinked as it dawned on him. “You know exactly who you’re dating.”

 

She sighed, eyes closing. “Yes. And it’s stupid. I know it’s stupid.”

 

“Just a little.” They leaned back against the car door, crossing their arms over their chest. “How did you even figure it out?”

 

“You guys are really bad at hiding. Come on. We have news broadcasts and television and newspapers now, and everybody’s traveling and moving around - Most people dismiss the urban legends, you know? But you hear about the weird deaths, the drug dealer who never ages, the people in the woods, you start...putting some stuff together.”

 

“So what are you, some investigator looking to expose us or something?”

 

She shook her head, a flush crossing her cheekbones. “I like him. A lot.”

 

“Jesus. Alright, so you’re a crazy dumbass. Give me a good reason  _ not  _ to kill you, just to spare my brother the trouble?”

 

“Cause he likes me, too.”

 

Envy could have lashed out, told her all the reasons why she was worthless to an immortal, told her why Greed didn’t need anybody else - he had his  _ family,  _ he had  _ them,  _ what on  _ earth  _ did she have to offer -

 

_ What would your name be if it wasn’t Envy? _

 

It wouldn’t leave them alone.

 

“Get in the car.”

 

“What?”

 

“We’re not done talking, and I offered you a ride.”

 

Marina slid wordlessly into the car, the flush of embarrassment still on her cheeks. Envy crawled into the driver’s seat, jamming their hands into the wires.

 

“Did you steal this?” she asked.

 

“No,” they lied. “Okay, next question. How the fuck does golden boy’s granddaughter end up sucking off drug dealers at parties and screwing - well, Greed?”

 

“You call him  _ golden boy? _ ” Marina snorted. “God,  _ weird. _ Uh, bad life choices.”

 

“So you admit that dating Greed is a bad-”

 

“My turn. Why’s it matter so much to you?”

 

“You really want me answering that?”

 

“I figure this ends one of two ways. You drop me off and decide you like me, or I die tonight and it’s going to be messy.” She was remarkably calm as she said it. “So tell me. Why does it matter so much?”

 

Envy grabbed the steering wheel, nails digging into their palm around the curve of the plastic. She was right. That alone made them really,  _ really  _  want to break her neck and have it be done with.

 

“What would you do if you were immortal?” they asked finally. 

 

“I don’t know. World peace, maybe? There’s lots of things I’d wanna do.”

 

Envy kept their eyes on the road. “I’ll tell you what happens. You get told you’re - you’re made for something. That you’re meant for something. You’re part of something great, something bigger than you. And that’s your life. That’s it. That’s everything. And then, you lose. You lose, and you want to believe that if you’d just done something differently -”

 

Marina didn’t say a word. Instead, the car trundled on in silence.

 

“Greed died twice,” Envy said flatly. “Both times because he was trying to save other people. Because he got attached to this idea that if he did something good and noble, he would. I don’t know. Go to heaven? Be a better person?” 

 

“That’s -”

 

“We were made to accomplish something.  _ Anything.  _ And if he dies saving  _ you,  _ then we’ll never find out what it is.” Envy sighed, cracking their neck. “We’ll just have spent almost another century waiting.”

 

Marina was quiet for a little longer. Then - “If you spend all your time waiting, how will you ever know?”

 

“Where do you suggest we start, prisspants?”

 

She shrugged. “Pick somewhere. But I don’t know if murdering random civilians is going to get you any closer.”

 

She was  _ right,  _ annoyingly enough. Even more annoyingly, it was helping. Envy could feel the tension unwinding from their chest, even though they were mentally glaring at their own anxiety with a  _ what the fuck  _ expression. Maybe it was just that she wasn’t one of their siblings. Maybe it was the quiet bravery in her eyes. Maybe it was just that she  _ knew  _ what they were. 

 

Maybe enough time had finally passed.

 

“Still a fifty-fifty shot of you dying before we get there, you know.”

 

“Oh, I know,” she sighed. “I’m not inviting you to play guitar with us until I know for sure I’m going to live to see it.”

 

“Oh,  _ guitar.  _ That’s your plan for reforming me.”

 

“Oh, no reform needed. An actual serial killer playing guitar for us? That’s so fucking metal.”

 

“...I’m the serial killer in question, and  _ I  _ find that disturbing, so I hope you’re joking.”

 

The longest conversation they’d held with anybody other than their siblings in seventy years, and this was how it was going.

 

Lust was never going to let them live it down.


End file.
